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Wakey Wakey, please no Shakey
Jacy and Lyen shared a worried look as they each grabbed hold of the chair and worked together dragging it through the lounge to the Med Bay. Why did furniture on this ship have to be so damn heavy? Probably to keep it from moving on its own at every little bump and rock of the ship. Now that they were in space and traveling at full-burn, it was a good chance they’d see more bumps and such. Jacy helped as she could, thankful for the guidance of an actual medical professional. She herself had no such training, not really. She was familiar with some of the terms from having overheard them on numerous occasion and she remembered a few of the more recurrent treatments that her clients had required, but the rest was just adlib and mimicry. Much of what Jacy did was adlib and mimicry. From an early age she’d shown a talent for consistently duplicating dance steps after seeing them performed only a few times. They still required practice to perfect the nuances particular to the craft, but the skill of parroting was transferable. Jacy looked up at Dorian as he requested a leather sleeve from his bag. She was amazed that he was still upright and pushing through the pain. She wondered if she’d looked as bad as he did now when she first met him in that forgettable saloon. Well she’d do what she could to help even if it wasn’t much. Once she’d retrieved the leather folder and stepped back from the table she watched Vas follow Dorian’s instructions. It looked more like chemistry than medical science, but it was foolish to think the fields would not overlap. “Blue on all four,” she agreed in a clear voice as the Doctor sought confirmation. Seeing little Haddie laid out on the table so innocently with her young brother looking on, supported by the nun who managed to achieve beauty and modesty equally, Jacy realized how unseemly her own attire may be perceived. She’d chosen it to gift or reward Sugarbear in some fashion on their first date, but so much had happened since then. So much had happened just in the time she’d been aboard the Lunar Veil. Was that how life went out here on freight ships? It was no wonder Captain Keller stayed drunk all the time. That poor man, a victim of his own vice and memories. Jacy untied the sleeves of her coveralls and pulled it up, slipping her arms through. She was zipping up when Dorian asked her to prep Haddie for an IV. She’d seen it done, but never by her own hands. The managed to get the rubber tubing tied around the girl’s bicep and assumed it was tight enough; she was scared to pull it tighter. Jacy looked to the others, hoping someone would step up with experience. Had Vas done something like this before? He stood there looking back at her. She already had her hands on the girl’s arm; she was standing the closest to Haddie at the moment. Jacy nodded, “I can do it.” She’d seen it done many times; how hard could it be? All said, it went better than she had any right hoping for. No one had flinched, she hadn’t needed to stab at the girl’s arm repeatedly and blood wasn’t spewing like a geyser across the Med Bay. Dorian seemed content with the job at least. “Sugarbear, help the Doc find his seat?” Jacy asked her young beau. She couldn’t say how much time passed. They all seemed to be waiting for some sign that Haddie was out of the woods as it were. Jacy was gently stroking the girl’s forehead while her brother held onto that little hand. Dorian looked quite calm and pleased despite his own health. They’d have to deal with him next, but it was unlikely any of them knew what could be done for him. Jacy certainly had no idea. Then Haddie let out a gasp and opened her good eye. Well she may have opened them both, but no one could see behind that glass patch. Gill was ecstatic. “Gentle, Gill,” Jacy whispered to the boy, “she’s been through it. Be gentle. Doc?” Jacy called to Dorian.